Fix You
by longlostwriter
Summary: Berwald knows something is off with Tino, but he doesn't know how to help. Desperate for answers, he pushes Tino to admit he has a problem. Is the situation too much for Berwald to handle? Or will he be able to fix his lovely wife? Human AU, human names used. SuFin. Trigger warning: ED.
1. Chapter 1

It was Berwald's turn to cook dinner. He settled on Tino's favourite, _lihapullat_. He rolled the meatballs carefully, ensuring each one was the same size and of near perfect roundness. Berwald dropped a few of them into the hot pan, jerking back when the meatballs popped and sizzled in the hot lard. Wrapping his hand in a dishtowel, he carefully took the handle of the frying pan and shook the meatballs around to evenly cook them. He frequently checked the cooking process of the meat while he made the cream sauce on the adjacent burner. He hummed absent-mindedly as he cooked, rotating cooked meatballs and raw ones through the frying pan. The smell of onions and other seasonings danced alongside the steam that wafted from the stove. The aromas tickled across Berwald's face, and he inhaled deeply, a faint smile playing across his lips. Tino was going to _love _this.

The Finn was lying face down in bed, wrapped in blankets. Breathing was difficult, as his face was pressed firmly in his pillow. He didn't care enough to tilt his head, even for air. He exhaled slowly, his breath warming the fabric against his face. His eyes were shut, and his mouth was dry. He tried his best to avoid the smell of dinner that had crept its way into the bedroom, but it was no use. The familiar scent of cream sauce was too heavy, pushing him deeper and deeper into the mattress. His stomach moaned, aching for a bite to eat. Tino grit his teeth, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

Berwald set the table; just the way Tino liked it. He used the light green placemats, and the sea blue napkins. He even mixed fresh lemonade, filled with several halves of the yellow fruit, and handfuls of ice. Their small IKEA table quickly filled as the Swedish man set out the serving plate, topped high with browned meatballs. Two bowls, one with cream sauce and one with mashed potatoes, stood guard on either side of the meatball plate. Berwald straightened the silverware, and gave the table one last sweeping look before rushing to the bedroom.

"Tino?" he called gently, pushing open the door. He saw the figure beneath the sheets move slightly, but it did not emerge. Berwald frowned, and called out to his wife again. This time, there was no movement.

Tino felt the mattress sink as Berwald sat down beside him. A concerned hand rested on his shoulder, and Tino shied away from the touch.

"Dinner's ready," Berwald announced, licking his lips. "I made your favourite."

Tino turned to face the Swede, his bleary eyes resting upon Berwald's deep blue ones. His forehead was creased with worry, which made him look angry. Tino swallowed hard, the full smell of dinner was now tantalizing him.

"Thank you," he offered Berwald a smile. "Let's eat." Tino rose from the bed, and moved past Berwald without another word. Berwald followed Tino's stride, watching his ghostly figure walk carefully towards the kitchen. Bile rose up in his throat as he stood up, following Tino with his eyes cast downward.

They took their places at the table without saying a word, which was not unusual. The pair liked to eat in silence, and then discuss the events of their day while they cleaned the dishes. But this silence didn't feel… _right_. Tino normally beamed at Berwald from across the table with crumb-covered cheeks and a sparkle in his eye. But today, Tino kept his mouth firmly shut as he placed a small portion of food on his plate. Only two meatballs. At least a quarter cup of mashed potatoes. Only one spoonful of cream sauce.

Tino hasn't been the same for a few months now. It was a gradual decline, but it was obvious from the start. His eyes were now dull, and his complexion had become nearly translucent. His hair and nails even seemed more brittle; Berwald often found clumps of his wife's hair clinging to the drain in the shower. He, being the shy introvert, never brought it up. He knew that if Tino had a problem, no matter how small, he'd come to Berwald. The Swede took care of everything from killing spiders to changing oil in the car to repainting the doors in the house. You name it, Berwald has fixed it. But for some reason, Berwald felt that whatever problem Tino had could not be fixed by him. That was a terrifying thought.

Berwald begrudgingly pulled himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on his dinner. He ate quietly, trying to avoid clattering his cutlery on the plate. He noticed Tino cringe every time a fork scraped. Berwald barely tasted his food, chewing and swallowing with mechanical movements. After a particularly hard bite to swallow, he took a shaky sip of his lemonade before speaking.

"Are you not hungry?"

Tino jumped, and looked up at Berwald. "O-Oh, no." He frowned apologetically. "I guess I'm just not feeling well today."

Berwald nodded carefully, still holding Tino's gaze. The Finn looked away, cheeks faintly dusted with a rose blush.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"No."

Berwald's heart sank. He licked his lips quickly before continuing.

"You should, uh… Well, you're probably hungry."

Almost as if on cue, Tino's stomach let out a guttural wail. Tino pressed his hands firmly on his abdomen, desperately trying to silence it. Berwald raised his eyebrows at Tino, who shot back a covert glare.

"I appreciate the dinner," he said quietly, rising from his seat. He carried his plate – barely touched – to the kitchen. Berwald watched him scrape his leftovers into a Tupperware container and place it in the fridge, carefully stacked onto the other four containers, stuffed with untouched meals. Tino cleaned his plate and put his dishes in the sink, aware of his husband's burning gaze, watching his every move like a cat watches a mouse. But Berwald wouldn't say anything. When he does bring up the topic, he is easily silenced.

He began his trek back to the bedroom, but stopped before his passed the table. He eyed the jug of lemonade up and down, watching drops of condensation roll down the delicate glass. He bit his lip and smiled gently at Berwald.

"Maybe a glass of lemonade will help my stomach a bit," he said with a weak chuckle. Berwald sat unmoving as Tino picked up the jug – _awfully heavy_, he thought – and brought it to his glass. He tilted the jug, and the lemonade rushed toward the glass with a speed Tino was unprepared for. The jug, slick with condensation, fell from his hands and clattered on the floor. Chunks of lemon and ice cubes burst from the lip of the (luckily) unbroken jug and shot across the pristine hardwood in all directions. Tino felt his eyes begin to prickle as Berwald jumped from his seat. Tino quickly ducked down under the table to retrieve the jug, trying hard to keep the tears from flowing.

"I-I'm sorry, Ber," he choked out. "It slipped, it was too heavy. I should've asked for help –"

"S'alright," Berwald said, voice dripping with undisclosed sadness. "I'll clean it up, you can go to bed."

Tino stood carefully, clutching the jug in his bony hands. Berwald avoided his eyes, unreadable emotion written across his face. Tino tried to meet Berwald's gaze, tried to search for an answer he could give. It wasn't until the Swede gave a hearty sniff that Tino felt a wave of guilt punch him in the stomach.

"Ber," was all he could say, before he set the jug down on the table with a loud clunk, and rushed to the bedroom, tears streaking down his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Berwald grabbed a bucket from under the sink and began to clean the lemonade. He was crouched on all fours, working as quickly as he could. He wanted desperately to just drop the soaked washcloth and run to Tino, but he both wanted to give him privacy and keep the hardwood clean. He stood up, deeming it a good enough job for now. The floor was still a bit tacky, but he'd deal with that later. He looked at the food and dishes that still needed cleaning, and tore himself away from them. Tino was important now.

Berwald paused outside the bedroom door, which was creaked open just a few inches. He could hear the shower running in their bathroom. He pushed inside and made his way to the bathroom, he paused for a moment, deciding whether or not he should go inside. After a deep breath, he turned the handle. It was locked.

Berwald furrowed his brow and tried again. He jiggled the handle, hoping that the lock was just stuck. He released the handle, and knocked politely. He waited for a few moments before trying again, this time, knocking a little more fiercely. He kept his mind as blank as he could, hiding from the worst-case assumptions.

"Tino," he called, resting his forehead on the door. He let his eyes slide closed. "Tino, please… I need to see you."

Berwald took a few shaky breaths, and then the shower turned off. He heard the shower door pull open, and he straightened up, knocking once more to be sure. There were sounds of scuffle, and then the door unlocked. Berwald, worried and impatient, opened the door.

Tino was standing on the cool tile, wrapped up in Berwald's towel. It was far too big for him, draping across his small frame like a blanket. He clutched the towel close to his body, shivering lightly. His hair was plastered to his forehead, still leaking water down his sad, angelic features. The rims of his eyes were red. Berwald's heart jumped, half from seeing his wife in only a towel, and half from seeing how fragile he had become.

"I'm sorry," Tino whispered, breaking the uneasy silence. "Berwald…" he looked to his husband's eyes, searching for words. "I don't know what to do."

Berwald swallowed hard, playing dumb. "What do you mean?"

Tino pressed his lips firmly together. He looked down, unsure of how to continue. Moments of silence passed, before he finally raised his eyes, brimming with tears.

"You haven't noticed?"

"N-No, I have," Berwald muttered stupidly, taking a step closer to Tino. "I just didn't know…"

"It's fine," Tino sighed, his voice laced with hurt. "It's my problem, not yours."

Berwald mentally punched himself. He looked around the bathroom, thinking hard. When his gaze finally met Tino's, his breath caught in his throat. Tears were leaking slowly down his cheeks, mingling with the beads of water on his shoulders before sinking into the towel. The Swede walked cautiously towards Tino, and wrapped his arms around him. Tino let out a sob of defeat, and melted into the embrace.

They stood like this for a few minutes, Tino crying like a small child the whole while. Berwald said nothing, resting his head on Tino's wet hair. He stroked his back soothingly, hands running up and down the damp towel. He could feel his shirt gradually soaking up some of Tino's shower water, but he didn't care. When the sobs subsided, Tino carefully pulled away from Berwald. He looked so tragically beautiful. Emotions surged inside Berwald. He wanted to protect his little Tino, wipe his tears, and make all the hurt go away. Such a beautiful face shouldn't look so dismal. Berwald spoke suddenly, startling both himself and Tino.

"Tell me what I can do," he said quietly. His eyes prickled, threatening to spill tears.

"Ber…" Tino began, his voice cracking. He cleared it gently before continuing. "I don't want to die –" bile rose up in Berwald's throat "—but I don't like being in this _body_." He spat the word out like it was poison on his tongue.

The Swede didn't know how to process these words. The body he loved so much – the body that loved him in such sweet return… How could Tino hate it? He searched for something to say as his hands moved away from Tino's back, and rested on the slender shoulders. He slipped his hands under the towel, easing it out of the Finn's grip. It fell agonizingly slowly, tickling the pale skin as it rolled to the floor. Tino shivered as the cool air bit his naked body. His arms instinctively wrapped around his midsection, hiding his stomach and the hunger that throbbed within it. When the towel finally dropped onto the tile floor, Tino felt uncomfortably exposed. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at himself or Berwald.

He felt his husband's calloused hands run down his collarbones, softly grazing the bone that threatened to break through the skin. They slipped downward, running past Tino's chest to trace along the lines of his ribcage. He heard Berwald's breath become rough, and he cringed at the sound. The strong hands fell slowly, resting on pointed hipbones. Berwald didn't move, but Tino could feel his hands shaking. His stomach lurched with guilt, trying to empty the contents that weren't there.

"Berbear… " He murmured, trying to push his husband's hands away. "Please, not now."

Berwald lifted his hands to Tino's face, cupping it delicately. Tino's bloodshot eyes met Berwald's glassy ones. The Swede's face was as sober as ever, but emotions brimmed within his eyes. Tino let out a shaky breath, wanting nothing more than to comfort his loveable giant. He wanted to take care of Berwald and show him that everything would be okay. Stroke his hair and massage his sore muscles. But how could he make someone else happy if he couldn't even take care of himself?

"I'm not asking for anything right now," Berwald said softly. "You've been through too much – " his breath hitched, and he took a few moments before continuing. "We'll work something out in the morning, okay?" He kissed Tino's forehead, lips lingering. When he finally pulled away, he took in Tino's full body. His face changed ever so slightly – his eyebrows knitted together with worry and his lip quivered. He left the bathroom without another word, shutting the door behind him.

Tino scrambled and picked up the towel, wrapping the safety blanket around his goose-bump covered body. In some ways, he felt relieved. He finally told Berwald, _sort of_. A weight felt lifted off his bony shoulders, and he managed a weak smile to himself. He dried the rest of his hair and hung the towel. As he reached for his pajama bottoms on the bathroom counter, he caught sight of his reflection in the pearly mirror. His eyes grew wide, tracing every line of his body. He had avoided his reflection as much as possible, relying on only a pinch of fat here and a glance at cellulite there to assess his appearance. He felt ugly, far too feminine for a man. But now…

He ran his hands down his body, watching the mirror carefully. He didn't have cellulite anymore, which was for sure. In fact, he didn't have much of anything left. His rosy complexion was now almost blue. His soft curves had melted off his hips, leaving him with skin that clung to every bone in his body. He didn't look like Tino Väinämöinen anymore. He looked ghastly and unrecognizable. His brightness was gone, replaced with a hollowness that seemed to swallow him whole. _How did he lose weight so quickly?_

He snatched his pajama bottoms and hastily pulled them on. He brushed his teeth, averting the mirror. When he left the bathroom, he felt a strange new glimmer of hope surge within him. Berwald needed the light back in his life, and Tino needed it too.

**A/N: There will be a few more chapters to this. I promise they'll be happier!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Recovery: Day One**

When Tino wakes up the next morning, he is alone in bed. Confused, he looks to the clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:41, and Tino is startled. He hadn't slept so well in ages. He stretches out, his joints cracking and popping pleasantly. He takes in the silence and the spacious bed to himself for a few moments, before he slides off the small mattress. Tino feels much better this morning than he did last night, despite the fact that his skin was raw and his eyes were swollen from all the crying. On a whim, he makes the bed.

After he is dressed, Tino walks into the kitchen, where Berwald is making lunch. He hears footsteps and looks up, his expression unchanging.

"Mornin'."

"Good afternoon, more likely," Tino replies, coming up beside Berwald to see what he is preparing. His nose instantly wrinkles as he peers at the egg sandwiches.

Berwald notices Tino's face. "Don't worry, these aren't for you."

"Oh, good," Tino sighs, letting his face relax as Berwald carries his plate to the table. "Not that I don't _like _egg sandwiches – " he adds hastily. "I just don't think I could handle one right now."

"I know," Berwald replies gruffly. "I made you a smoothie."

Tino's eyes widen. "You did?"

"Mhmm. It's in the fridge."

Tino reaches for the handle, and pulls open the fridge. The cool air wraps around him as he scans the shelves for his lunch. He spots it; a tall glass, filled with what looks like a chocolate milkshake, complete with a plastic straw. He pulls it out, and gives it a quick sniff. It's chocolate-banana.

"Wow, thank you," Tino smiles sweetly at Berwald, who returns an upward curve of the corner of his mouth. The Finn sits down at the table, across from Berwald. He toys with the straw for a few moments, before taking a cautious sip. Berwald's eyes watch him, unblinking. Tino stares into his smoothie as he drinks, imagining shapes and patterns in the chocolate swirls on the surface. He manages to drink half of it before he pushes it away gently.

"What's wrong?" Berwald asked, looking quite judgmental.

"I'm full," Tino replies meekly. "I guess my appetite has decreased."

Berwald nods, slight disappointment etching lines in his handsome face. Tino watches him sigh, and then continue eating the rest of his egg sandwich. Deciding it would be best to leave the table, Tino brings his glass back to the kitchen. He opens the fridge to put it next to the leftovers, and that's when he notices.

Tino closes the fridge a little too fiercely. "Where are all the leftovers?"

"Gone."

"Gone _where?_"

"Threw 'em out," Berwald replies casually, taking another bite of his lunch. Tino fumes silently as the Swede swallows, and then continues. "I got rid of all our Tupperware."

"What for?" Tino cries, staring at Berwald in disbelief. "Those were expensive! You know we can't afford a lot of nice things! Yet you go ahead and throw out something that we actually need!"

Berwald isn't used to seeing Tino angry. It makes him a little uncomfortable, but he knows it doesn't last long. He prepares his next words carefully, knowing it'll be for the best.

"You can't keep using 'em to hide your food."

Tino's face falls, a little startled. "I don't hide my food…"

"You don't eat your leftovers. I take mine to work. Yours sit in the fridge, untouched."

Berwald sits in silence, recovering from how much he spoke just then. He finishes his lunch and stands up, taking his dishes past Tino, who is still stood frozen in the doorway. He still hasn't moved after Berwald finishes washing the dishes, and strides past him without another word. Before he steps around the corner to go to his workshop, he pauses, and gives Tino an apologetic look.

"It'll be hard," he murmurs, holding his gaze steady. "But it'll be worth it in the end." Without waiting for a reply, Berwald walks away, leaving Tino alone in the kitchen. Tino gives the room one last sweeping look, before going to the bedroom and collapsing on the neat sheets, willing himself to fall asleep.

Berwald comes out of his workshop two hours later. His fingers are stiff from carefully carving his woodwork, and his clothes are covered in a thin layer of sawdust. He opens the fridge, searching for a bite to eat. He spots Tino's half-finished smoothie, and his stomach falls. He shut the door, not quite feeling hungry anymore. It was around 4pm; he would last until dinnertime. With that thought, he began prodding through the cupboards, trying to figure out what to have for dinner. It was unconventional for the Nordic pair, but there was a box of penne pasta on the top shelf. Beside it sat a jar of tangy sauce. With a curt nod to himself, he decided that pasta would be on the menu tonight.

He looked around the house, figuring that Tino was in bed. He was _always _in bed as of late, and it made the home very quiet. Quiet and lonely. Berwald brushed the sawdust off his clothing, before pulling out his cellphone. He scrolled through the contacts until he found what he was looking for. He called the number, and the phone rang… and rang… and rang. Finally, a familiar voice answered in a lazy drawl.

"Hello, this is Lukas."

Berwald hardly acknowledged him. "Is Mathias there?"

"Yes," he heard the Norwegian sniff in annoyance. "Would you like to speak to him?"

"No," Berwald replied. "I'm coming over."

"I don't recall extending an invitation." There was silence, and then; "When should we expect you?"

"Ten minutes. I'm on my way."

Before Lukas could even reply, Berwald had hung up the phone and was grabbing his car keys on his way out the door.

When he arrived at Mathias' apartment, Lukas answered the door. He stepped aside casually, letting Berwald step in. He turned and strode away while the Swede kicked off his shoes, setting them neatly next to Mathias' ratty sneakers.

"Hey!" Mathias called as he walked into the living room, seeing Berwald standing by the door. "Come on in, have a beer."

"No thanks," Berwald muttered in reply, walking into the cluttered home.

Lukas raised his eyebrows as Berwald flopped onto the couch beside Mathias. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He rubbed the skin firmly, groaning as he felt an oncoming headache behind his eyes.

"Hung-over, are we?" Mathias teased, draping an arm across Berwald's broad shoulders.

"No," game the grumbled reply. "Can't sleep; too worked up."

"IKEA keeping you busy?" Lukas asked, making light conversation. His voice clearly stated he wasn't interested in the answer.

Berwald shook his head, tired of the pestering questions. He raised his head and straightened his glasses. He sighed heavily before speaking.

"I need some help."

"Oh god, you're not into drugs, are you?" Mathias cried, wrenching his arm away from Berwald.

"Would you just shut up for _one second_?" Lukas snapped. He turned to Berwald. "So sorry for him. What's going on?"

The Swede pressed his lips together. Where to start? So much had been going on the past few months, he wasn't even sure what the root of the problem was anymore, nor did he know what to fix first. He shook his head, staring at the floor. After a few breaths, he decided.

"Tino needs help."

Lukas fiercely shushed the Dane before he could ask if Tino was into drugs as well. The pair was quiet, waiting for Berwald to continue. When he did, his voice was hoarse and full of worry.

"He's not the same anymore. He hasn't been eating; doesn't like the way he looks. He looks… _dead._"

"He's starving himself?" Mathias asked incredulously, wide eyes flickering between Berwald and Lukas. The Swede gave a quick nod before speaking again.

"I tried to make him eat today. He couldn't do it. _Won't do it_," he added angrily. It was silent between the three of them for quite some time. Lukas watched Berwald carefully while Mathias kept looking from one to the other, with a face that cried 'I don't believe it'. Finally, Mathias settled on something to say.

"Christ, I need a beer."

If Lukas' eyes could kill, his glare would've made the Dane drop like a dead fly. He turned his eyes on Berwald, cool but sympathetic.

"You can't just make him eat," he said smartly, reaching for his chilled coffee that was resting on the living room table. "Recovery doesn't work overnight."

"Then what?" Berwald persisted, searching Lukas for answers.

He took a long sip of his coffee before speaking. "You need to help him. When I say this, I mean _really_ help him. Don't just give him advice and rules and walk away from him."

"Think of it this way," Mathias interjected, plopping on the couch with a fresh beer. "Imagine you were welcomed into a new country. No, c'mon, listen for a second!" he pleaded as Lukas rolled his eyes. "So. This country doesn't speak your language. They only speak this confusing, twisted tongue that only they understand."

"Sooo… Icelandic?" Lukas said, with a small smirk on his lips.

"Yeah! We'll go with that. Anyway, you get to this country, and they give you a pamphlet on the language and how to live there. Except, it's all written in Icelandic. No one will speak to you in a language you'll understand. They all expect you to pick it up on your own."

Lukas straightens himself on the couch, turning to Mathias. "I see where you're going with this. Imagine learning all the letters and pronunciation on your own, with no help from a local that would know what he's doing."

"People would look at you like you're crazy every time you ask for something," Mathias adds.

"Where does this fit in with Tino?" Berwald asks suddenly.

Lukas looks to him, and explains it as easily as he can. "It fits in because Tino is doing this all on his own right now."

"He is not," Berwald shoots back.

"What did you do to help him today?" asks Lukas, his typical conceited tone breaking through.

"Made him lunch."

"Mhmm. And did he eat it?"

"Well… half."

Lukas raised his eyebrows. "What did you do then?"

Berwald's silence was a sure enough answer for both of them. Mathias stuck his beer bottle to his lips, chugging to avoid being brought into the conversation.

"You need to be persistent," Lukas asserts, taking another sip of his drink. "But be gentle with him, he won't take too kindly to forced gestures."

"Where do I start?" Berwald asks weakly.

The Norwegian thinks for a few moments before offering advice. "Make him finish his portions. Even if they're small, it'll get him out of the habit of leaving food on his plate."

"As time goes on," Mathias adds, after swallowing a mouthful of Tuborg. "Increase the portion size."

"Vitamin supplements couldn't hurt either."

Berwald nodded, turning over the new information in his mind. It seemed to be great advice, but how well would it work? Tino seemed willing to cooperate, but he just needed a little guidance.

After a short visit, Berwald decided it was time to go home. He still needed to cook dinner, and he needed to make sure Tino was awake to eat it. It took nearly ten minutes to get out the door as Mathias consistently pushed Berwald into having a drink with him. He politely declined each time as Lukas gave him a smart smack to the back of the head. When he finally made it out of the apartment, it was just after 6pm, and he was starving.

Tino was awake when he got home, mopping the floors. Berwald stood in amazement for a little while, when finally Tino looked up and saw him.

"There you are!" he said, sounding a bit more like his regular self. "Where were you? I took a nap and when I woke up you were gone. There was sawdust on the floor and – _ugh_, it was stuck to the floor, where the lemonade fell last night. Remember? Anyways, I couldn't just leave the mess here, so I mopped the dining room. But then I just ended up mopping the whole floor after all. And then – "

Berwald had made his way over to Tino while he was rambling. He cut him off by placing a finger on his plump lips. He offered him the best smile he could, before kissing him softly. Tino's heart jumped in excitement, sending a flurry of shivers down his spine. He allowed his eyes to slide closed, and the mop clattered to the floor. His hands wrapped around Berwald, clinging tightly. His grip was desperate, holding on to the emotional rock that has kept him stable for so long. Berwald returned the embrace; squeezing Tino so hard he feared he's snap in half. The kiss was desperate, both partners reeling from the physical touch that had been lacking for so long.

It was the first time they had kissed in nearly a month.

**A/N: ****For those of you wondering, ED stands for eating disorder. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Recovery: Day 14**

The first two weeks of Tino's recovery were probably the hardest days Berwald has ever lived through. On top of going to work every day, he was making six meals, three for himself and three for Tino. The Finnish man couldn't eat heavy foods like pasta or steak, so Berwald took this as an opportunity to make himself his favourite Swedish dishes while serving Tino pea soup and scrambled eggs. He portioned his wife's meals carefully, ensuring there wasn't too much, but still enough to keep him satisfied. He even served Tino his vitamin supplements in little eggcups beside his plates. However, the extra attention burdened Berwald, as he was cleaning double the amount of dishes than he was used to. He pushed Tino away every time he offered to help. He was struggling enough as it is, working part-time at a craft supply store and dealing with this… _illness._ The last thing Berwald wanted was to laden him with more work.

It was the end of the day, and they had eaten a late supper. After Berwald dried and put away the last of the dishes, he felt his whole body slump. He was exhausted, and aching from head to toe. He had worked an extra shift that day, which extended his workweek to six days instead of five. Tino was asleep already, and it was only half past nine. Berwald considered going straight to sleep, but he still had to write up a grocery list. The Swede had been so busy caring after Tino that he hardly noticed their food supply dwindle down until he went to pour milk in his coffee that morning and there was none left. Berwald sat himself at the table with a pen and notepad, and began scrawling down a few ideas for meals this week. One side of the page was labeled 'Me', and the other half 'Tino'.

No less than five minutes into his task, Berwald was drooping in his chair, his pen lazily dragging across the page as his grip relaxed. He snored, and the pen finally slipped from his fingers and rolled across the table. He was blessed with an easy sleep, free from his recurring nightmares of a bony, faceless figure, ghosting down a long hallway. Instead, Berwald dreamt of beaches. He dreamt of the soft, silky sand that caressed his bare feet as he walked. He dreamt of Tino, full of figure and life, practically galloping across the beach with a face-splitting grin. Berwald stayed like this all night, snoring against the kitchen table with a light smile on his face. Despite his awkward position, it was an incredible, easy sleep.

* * *

Back in the real world, Tino was just waking. The hazy Sunday sky was already alight. Strong rays of sunshine pierced through the gossamer curtains, warming Tino's face. Routinely, he checked the time. 7:22. He pulled himself out of bed with a yawn, scratching his head under his flyaway hair. It was then that he noticed Berwald wasn't there. In fact, his side of the bed was completely undisturbed. Tino gasped, and flailed out of the sheets and out of the bedroom.

He skidded into the kitchen, face softening as he took notice of his husband's sleeping figure. In front of him were a notepad and a pen, pushed aside to allow his head to rest. Tino approached the table carefully, tilting his head to read what was scribbled on the page. His brow creased as he saw the grocery list. Crossed out lines and question marks were littered over the side of the page that was labeled 'Tino'. There were different menu ideas, new food groups, and a few names of meal replacement shakes. He turned away form the list and instead focused his attention on the sleeping giant. His slender fingers reached out, stroking Berwald's cheek softly. The larger man murmured in content, subconsciously tilting his head into the touch. Tino ran his hand down Berwald's cheek, and then into the blonde hair on the back of his head. He scratched lightly, waking the Swede with soft movements.

"Mmm," he sighed, eyes still closed. "Don't stop."

Tino's hand ran through Berwald's hair for a few more seconds, before sliding delicately down his neck. He massaged the muscle that connected his neck and his right shoulder, easing away the knots and tension. Tino stepped closer to his husband, raising a second hand to his other shoulder. He dipped his hands under Berwald's collar, thriving in the warmth of his body. His fingers worked deftly, pressing and smoothing over the skin. The Swede let out another moan, deep and wanting.

"_Tino_…"

The Finn leaned in close, pressing his lips to Berwald's ear. He had almost forgotten how good his husband smelled. He was rich and musky, and Tino felt his stomach flip as he breathed deeply.

"Good morning," he cooed, giving Berwald another kiss. "Are we going grocery shopping today?"

Berwald shifted, causing Tino to step back. His hands rested on Berwald's shoulder as he sat up and reached for the grocery list, turning it over in his calloused hands.

"It's not finished," he said, voice thick with sleep.

"Your side is," Tino replied softly, calling attention to the neat list under Berwald's name.

Berwald turned to face Tino, confusion creased in his face. "What about yours?"

Tino huffed, and took the list from Berwald's hands. He tore the page in two, crumpling the messy half in his fist. He tossed the ball of paper carelessly on the table and reached for the pen. He crossed out Berwald's 'Me' that captioned the clean list, and neatly wrote beside it: 'Us'.

"No more," Tino said sharply, handing the page back to Berwald. "No more special food. I want to try a normal meal again."

"You sure?"

Tino flailed his hands. "Does this look unsure to you?"

_Nope,_ Berwald thought to himself, half-smiling at Tino's bright eyes. _Not at all_.

* * *

Grocery shopping felt just like it did before Tino fell ill. They bought plenty of fish, and some more pasta to keep in their cupboard for lazy dinner days. They bought tons of fresh vegetables to make salads, and more lemons for lemonade. Berwald allowed Tino to pick up some extra fruit, and he came sauntering back to the shopping cart with two large pineapples under each arm. He even pleaded to Berwald, begging for the box of chocolate Poptarts that was on sale. Berwald was over the moon with excitement, watching Tino load the groceries onto the conveyor belt with little to no difficulty. His cheeks had begun to fill out, dimpling whenever he smiled. The colour had returned as well, not just in his face, but also in his whole body. He was still worryingly thin, but the recovery was proving to work extremely well.

That night, they had salmon for dinner, with a bright summer salad on the side. Berwald cut Tino half a filet, which he ate entirely. Most of his salad was gone, leaving only a few stray tomatoes on the plate. He wasn't very fond of tomatoes. Tino helped with the dishes as well, chattering about the lovely couple he saw in the supermarket that morning.

"—_Such_ a sweet child, too!" the Finn complimented, drying a plate and putting in it the cupboard. "And the cashier that put us through was quiet handsome indeed."

Berwald grunted.

"Oh!" Tino exclaimed, nearly dropping a dish. "Not as handsome as you, though."

Berwald smiled.

That night, they curled up on the couch to watch a movie. Tino, not one for action films, fell asleep about forty minutes in. Berwald continued watching the movie, impressed with the great cinematic spectacle of explosions and car chases. His phone, resting on the coffee table, suddenly buzzed twice. Careful not to wake Tino, Berwald reached forward, tapping a few buttons to reach the text message. It was from Mathias.

_Hey, Tino holding up okay? Thought you guys might wanna come out for dinner with us next week. Lemme know. LUV U! xoxo_

Berwald rolled his eyes and typed out a quick reply.

_Tino's great. How does Friday sound?_

His phone buzzed with a reply about five minutes later.

_Awesome. We're eating at the sushi place, btw. Don't forget your wallet, shit's pricey there!_

He shut off his phone without even bothering to reply. He turned his focus to the movie, watching the last fifteen minutes of the show while Tino drooled on the arm of the couch beside him. When the credits began to roll, Berwald flicked off the television, and glanced over at the dark figure of his wife, sleeping soundly. He stood to stretch before focusing on Tino. Berwald crouched beside the snoring man, and slid his arms under his body. He wiggled gently, trying to get a good grip without waking him. He picked up Tino slowly, testing his weight. He didn't feel as frail as he looked, and Berwald was pleased that he could press his hand into the soft flesh of Tino's thighs as he carried him to the bedroom.

Tino woke as he was being set down on the bed.

"Ber?" he slurred. "I missed the movie."

"It's okay," he replied, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Go back to sleep, my little princess."

Tino shifted, wrapping his arms around his blanket and pulling it tight. His voice was slow, muffled against the pillow.

"I'm not… your princess."

Berwald ignored Tino as he fixed the blankets, making sure they covered his slender feet. He tucked him in before stripping to his boxers and climbing in beside him, opting to sleep on top of the covers.

"Goodnight, sleeping beauty."

**A/N: Took a break from the sad stuff to write some sweet SuFin for you guys.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Recovery: Day 21**

Today was the day. The first day in 7 months that Tino Väinämöinen would eat in a restaurant.

To put it gently, he was absolutely terrified. What if the portions were too big? What if he was criticized for not being able to finish his meal?

Uncomfortable thoughts shifted through Tino's mind as he stood behind the counter at Quirky Quilts, scanning dozens of balls of yarn. His customer was leaning across the counter, eyeing the screen to make sure each item rung through as advertised. Everything must've been right, because she huffed loudly and sulked back to the other side of the counter, pulling out her wallet.

It was a long shift today, 10-6 on a Friday. The store was crawling with elderly ladies, looking to spend their retirement pensions on new knitting needles or new yarn colours. Picky mothers bounced back and forth between fabrics, trying to find one that was soft enough for their children's blankets. Tino's smile never faltered though, despite how badly he just wanted to sit alone and think. His uniform was starting to fit again, which was both terrifying and exhilarating. He wasn't sure if it was healthy to gain back weight this fast. It did make him feel wonderful though. He slept normally again, only about 9 hours a night instead of 15. His hunger no longer caused him pain, and he was able to recognize when he was full, and when he could go for second helpings. The best part of all of it though, was seeing how happy it made Berwald. He was naturally a stoic person, but he became even more somber during the 6 months of Tino's declining health. However, nearly a month had gone by and Berwald was even happier than he was before the eating disorder began. When Tino went for a third serving of mashed potatoes the other night, the Swede broke into a smile so wide it bared his teeth; a gesture that terrifies others, but fills Tino with determination.

The final hours of Tino's shift trickled by, and he was demoted from working cash to sweeping the floors before closing. That was the one thing he liked best about his job. They closed early on the weekends, leaving the underpaid workers to enjoy at least _some _free time. The store closed, and Tino was finally granted his freedom. He retrieved his coat from the small lunchroom in the back of the store, and pulled out his phone.

_I'll be in the parking lot._

Berwald was a man of few words, even in his text messages. Tino quickly replaced his phone in his pocket before darting outside, spotting Berwald's beat-up Peugeot parked next to the doors. He quickly hopped inside the car, cheeks flushed with apprehensive excitement.

"You didn't change?" Berwald asked, staring at Tino's tacky work clothes.

"I'll stay in my uniform," he replied, unclipping his nametag and putting it in his pocket. "I don't mind. Hurry up, I don't want to be late!"

Berwald and Tino were lucky that Lukas and Mathias had made reservations, because the restaurant was very busy that night. There was a lineup of people out the door, waiting to get in. They hissed in annoyance when Tino squeezed past them, chirping a quick "Excuse me!" before he entered the restaurant. It wasn't hard to spot Mathias sitting in a booth in the left-hand corner; his wild blonde hair was easily visible over the back of the bench. Tino took Berwald's hand and led him to the table.

"Look who made it!" Mathias exclaimed, waving at his friends. Berwald sat down across from the Dane, and Tino sat next to Berwald, across from Lukas. He flashed him a brilliant smile, but Lukas only raised an eyebrow in return, before reaching for a menu.

"Mathias and I have already decided," he said coolly, opening the laminated folder. "Because _someone_ couldn't agree on a platter, we opted for individual dishes. You two, however, can choose otherwise."

Berwald opened his own menu, scanning down the list of jumbled symbols that he didn't recognize. Underneath, each menu item was Romanized, though still difficult to pronounce. He was hoping Tino wouldn't ask for the two-person meal. It would be too easy to his wife to under eat, knowing that Berwald was there and was able to eat a lot more. The Swede picked through the different types of dishes while Tino flicked through his own menu. He set it down after less than a minute.

"I'll have an individual item."

It was the best news Berwald had heard all day.

The four friends ordered their dishes. Mathias insisted on trying to read the dish's name, but was quickly shut up by Lukas, who pinned a hand over his mouth. Tino was glad the restaurant had the option to order the number beside the menu items, lest he embarrass himself by trying to pronounce his order. They gossiped lightly while their meals were being prepared, Mathias over exaggerating on almost all details in his stories. Tino thought it was nice to have dinner with his friends; it made him feel almost normal again. He even ordered a soda instead of water, and he could almost feel the sweet fizz eating through his teeth as he sipped. Berwald's hand rested on Tino's knee under the table, away from prying eyes. He was gentle at first, tracing circles absentmindedly with his thumb. When he suddenly drew his hand up Tino's thigh, the Finn inhaled sharply and choked on his soda.

"S-Sorry!" he sputtered, cheeks bright red. He reached for a napkin and dapped it on the spots of soda on the table. He avoided the suspicious eyes across from him as he folded the napkin tightly on his lap. Berwald kept his face perfectly unchanged the whole time as he ran his hand back down Tino's thigh to rest on his knee.

_When was the last time he touched me like that?_ Tino thought frantically, his face still burning with a pink blush. _And why now, in a public restaurant with our friends!?_

Before Tino could assess the situation more, their dinner had arrived.

* * *

The sushi was delicious; there was no denying that. But the servings were quite large. Tino ate one, two, three pieces of sushi and was already beginning to feel full. He wanted so badly to impress Berwald, so he kept eating. When he finished his seventh piece, he sat back and exhaled. One stubborn salmon roll sat alone on his plate, mocking him. He quickly eyed the table, and realized that everyone else had eaten all their food. Determined, he picked up his chopsticks and gently prodded the salmon roll. He felt his stomach churn as the smell reached his nose. He was about to turn to Berwald, admitting defeat, when Mathias' hand shot across the table.

He stabbed a single chopstick into the heart of Tino's sushi, with an embarrassingly loud 'Hi-_ya_!'. He popped the sushi in his mouth, grinning at Tino as he sat back on his side of the booth.

"You're unbearable," Lukas shot at him, a look of absolute disgust on his face.

Mathias replied with a mouthful of rice. "You still love me."

"_Hardly_."

As the couple bickered across from them, Berwald leaned close to Tino, whispering loudly enough for only him to hear.

"You did it. You ate the whole plate."

"Not really," he muttered in return, toying with a chopstick. "Mathias ate some."

"Only one piece of sushi," Berwald replied, kissing Tino's ear. "Either way, I'm proud."

The plates were cleared and the bills came, one for Tino and Berwald, and the other for Mathias and Lukas. Ironically enough, and despite the fact that he had reminded Berwald a week ago, Mathias forgot his wallet at home. Lukas seethed as he pulled out his credit card to cover the cost of their dinner. Berwald paid for himself and Tino, and then the friends parted ways.

* * *

That night, after months of tension, Tino and Berwald made love. It was sweet, tender, and almost sickeningly romantic. However, Tino's mind was elsewhere. They whispered sweet nothings to each other until Berwald finally drifted off to sleep, Tino wrapped up in his heavy arms. The Finn waited for a few minutes, his mind pacing back and forth. Suddenly, he wiggled out of Berwald's hold and slipped out of bed. He tiptoed to the bathroom, locking the door safely behind him. He trembled violently as he crouched down in front of the toilet bowl. He thought of all the food he had eaten that day. He thought of how quickly his hips were beginning to fill out. He thought of his clothes that were beginning to fit once more. But more importantly, he thought of Berwald.

"I can't do this, I can't do this," he whispered to himself, staring into the still porcelain water.

_Berwald doesn't have to know_, a voice leered dangerously in the back of Tino's mind.

"No…"

_You know what to do… you've done it dozens of times already._

"I can't –" Tino choked, his mouth dry.

_You don't want to be pudgy little Tino for the rest of your life, do you?_

The Finnish man opened his mouth, and placed two fingers on the tip of his tongue. The battle between good and evil raged inside him as he waited; waited to see if he would relapse into the ghost he was not even a month before. The disease occupying Tino's mind slowly started to take over, clouding the edges of Tino's vision as his fingers slipped further into his mouth…

With the bit of sanity he had left, Tino bit down fiercely, his teeth locking painfully onto his knuckles. He pushed away from the toilet, leaning against the bathroom wall. He breathed heavily, keeping his jaw firmly set on his fingers.

"_Berwald!" _Tino's voice was strangled. "Berwald, help!"

Ten seconds ticked by, feeling more like an eternity to Tino as his teeth punctured the skin on his fingers, bright crimson drops falling down his face. He didn't dare let go. He heard Berwald struggling with the door, jiggling the handle agitatedly. Tino's stomach dropped when he realized he had locked it. The Finn was about to shuffle over to the handle to turn the lock, but Berwald had launched himself against the door, successfully forcing it open. Wood splinters flaked off, falling delicately around Tino's quivering frame. The Swede, not wearing glasses, squinted before he caught sight of Tino. He dropped down and wrenched the bloody hand from his wife's mouth. Tino let out a gasp, throwing himself into his strong arms.

Berwald carried Tino out of the bathroom and laid him on the bed, where he was rambling incoherently through uneven sobs. Without another thought, Berwald snatched his phone off the bedside table and called for an ambulance.


	6. Chapter 6

He felt like a failure, a complete and utter letdown. Tino was his work of art, made of the most delicate material that he had carved with love and dedication. Such attention to detail should've held Tino together, stronger than any other manmade creation. But all great things fall eventually, and Berwald could do nothing but watch helplessly as the doctors took Tino away in a wheelchair, leaving him alone in the waiting room. The Swede was left to swim in his thoughts, dwelling on the past month, thinking over and over again, _where did I go wrong?_

He was at a loss for words, both internally and externally. His mind was a pool, deep and full of feelings and pictures and… Tino. He mused over the events leading up to the eating disorder. He couldn't place his finger on the trigger that started it all. Was it the day they went to Mathias' house for a traditional Danish luncheon and he got food poisoning? No, it couldn't be. Perhaps it was the day Tino was asked to stay overtime at work, returning home after a 14-hour shift? No, Tino had been through worse. Maybe it was what happened last night?

Berwald hissed, letting his head fall to his hands. "How did this happen?" he thought aloud, making a passing nurse squeak in fright before trotting away, looking over her shoulder every few feet. He sat like this for a while. Long enough for his face to go numb where his palms were pressing. Long enough to him to slip in and out of consciousness, having micro-dreams as he slept for five minutes before being startled awake by his own erratic breathing. Time was going by agonizingly slowly, and Berwald didn't know if he was going to last through the night. He checked his watch, which read 2:03am. He sighed, looking up to the artificial lights of the hospital ceiling. Mathias would probably still be awake…

He pulled out his phone, opting for a text message instead of a phone call.

_Mathias, are you awake?_

The ten minutes felt like half an hour before his phone buzzes with a reply.

_Oi ber,_ the text reads. _Hvad' så?_

Drunk, as usual. Mathias is no use to him now. He types out a new message, surprising both himself and the Dane who received it.

_I need to talk to Lukas._

Two minutes go by. Berwald's phone buzzes.

_What do you want?_

The text was far too clear and far too sharp to be written by Mathias. He trusts that he is speaking to Lukas as he carefully types with trembling fingers. He re-reads his text half a dozen times before sending it.

* * *

Lukas and Mathias show up at the hospital at around 3:30am. The Norwegian is carrying two travel mugs containing coffee. Mathias is staggering a little, still quite inebriated. Lukas is furiously trying to get him to walk steady as they make their way to the psychiatric ward where Berwald is waiting.

"I swear to Odin," Lukas seethes as Mathias bumps into potted plant, almost knocking it over. "If you don't sober up –"

"Relax, Luke," the Dane says airily, waving his hand at his companion. "It's all good. I can act sober."

They follow the signs leading to the elevator, the 10th floor being labeled as the psych ward. The metal doors open instantly after Lukas presses the button. Mathias trips into the elevator and begins laughing hysterically, straightening himself up to peer at Lukas through half-lidded eyes.

"Y'know what would be so _hot_," he begins, inching close to Lukas as the elevator doors glide shut. "Elevator sex."

Lukas reaches for the button for the tenth floor. "No."

The Dane falls into Lukas, mouthing at his neck, smelling of stale beer and potato chips. "Not even a little bit?" he pleads, his breath hot against Lukas' skin.

"There are _cameras_ in here," the Norwegian warns, but he makes no effort to stop the Danes advances. The ride is over all too soon as the elevator lurches to a stop, and Mathias staggers backwards. His eyebrows screw together in concentration, trying to hold himself steady. Lukas snorts and walks out, leaving Mathias to saunter after him, making kissy noises.

Berwald, triggered by the sound of the Danes outrageous laughter, looks up and sees the pair making their way towards him. He stands and takes the mug of coffee Lukas offers him.

"Thanks for coming," he says quietly, sitting back down as Lukas takes a seat beside him.

"It's the least we could do." Lukas sighs heavily as Mathias trips forward, successfully catching himself before he face plants into the floor.

"Sorry 'bout Tino," he says, eyes hazy but full of compassion. "We're here for ya."

Berwald nods, taking a sip of his coffee. It was dark, and still piping hot. He breathes deeply, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall behind him. Lukas remains silent as he pulls out his phone. He absentmindedly scrolls through pages of news that he has already read. He takes his time, trying to understand the full detail of each story before moving on to the next. Anything to pass the time. Mathias falls asleep within minutes of arriving.

* * *

As the minutes slowly turn into hours and the sun begins to peek blearily through the cloudy sky, the hospital begins to fill. Patients come and go, some walking and some in wheelchairs, and even some on stretchers. The Scandinavian trio slowly begin coming into consciousness as the noise level picks up.

"There's a coffee shop down the street," Lukas says as he stands and stretches out his arms. "Would you like something?"

"Coffee. Black." Berwald begins fishing for changes in his pockets before Lukas interrupts him.

"It's on me." Without another word, Lukas walks away. Mathias is still struggling to wake up, one arm draped across his eyes to shield them from the light.

"I have the worst hangover," he complains. Berwald offers him no sympathy.

Just a few moments later, a doctor approaches them cautiously.

"Are you Mr…" he looks down at his clipboard. "Mr. Oxenstierna?"

Berwald stands and gives the doctor a cautious nod.

"Oh, excellent. Tino is awake and doing well. He was under surveillance all night, and nothing went wrong. He has requested to see you before he sees the psychiatrist."

"I can see him?" Berwald's insides churn at the thought of seeing his wife. Is he angry? Sad?

"Yes, you and your… friend?" The doctor peers around the Swede, eyeing Mathias suspiciously.

"Forgive him," Berwald says quickly. "He is a bit hung-over today."

"Ah," the doctor tries to hide his grin, and fails. "Well he may come too. Perhaps we'll set up a bed for him."

Berwald reaches over to Mathias and hauls him to his feet. He groans and squints around, trying to gather his bearings. Somehow, his hair is even more gravity defying than usual, sticking up at odd angles. He's helped along the hallway as the doctor leads the pair to Tino's room.

When the door opens, the first thing Berwald notices is that there are no windows. The second thing he notices is Tino, sitting upright in bed, beaming at them as they cautiously enter the room.

"Come in, guys!" Tino grins, waving them over. The doctor excuses himself and leaves the friends to visit with each other in peace. Mathias is first to approach Tino, giving him a playful jab to the arm.

"You don't look too shabby," he says, analyzing the Finn's slender face. "These wires and machines really drag you down, though."

Tino sighs, lifting his left hand. "The IV isn't so bad. It hurts a bit going in, though."

Mathias stifles a laugh and winks at Berwald. "I bet it does…"

Berwald and Mathias drag some chairs over to sit next to Tino's bed. They make awkward small talk for a few minutes, talking about soccer and the weather, and what made the news headlines that week. The door opens and Lukas walks in, carrying a tray of three coffees.

"Lukas, you're amazing," Mathias sighs as he takes his cup. "Honestly." Lukas only smirks in reply, but it is clear to the group of Nordics that he's flattered. Berwald takes his cup and instantly holds it out for Tino to take.

His eyes widen slightly, and he smiles. "Oh, Ber. I'm touched, but I can't take it. The hospital is monitoring my diet."

Berwald brings the cup to his lap.

"You've been awfully quiet," Tino prompts, trying to meet his husband's gaze. "Are you alright?"

Lukas beckons Mathias to follow him outside. He says a quick goodbye to Tino before he shuts the door. When they leave the room, the silence is heavy. A chill sets in the air and Berwald clutches his coffee tighter, hoping the steaming drink will somehow warm more than just his hands.

"Ber?" Tino's voice is quiet, scared.

"I couldn't help you."

Tino stiffens, his brow furrowed in confusion. He reaches a hand out to stroke Berwald's arm, inciting him to continue.

"I did everything I could… but it still wasn't enough."

"That's not true!" The Finn's voice is shrill in the quiet hospital room. "You did everything, and more. The problem here is me; I didn't put as much effort into it as you did." His voice is soft now, as he smiles at Berwald. "I overheard the doctors talking this morning. They said if it weren't for you, I'd be in a lot worse shape."

"I don't want to think about that," Berwald mumbles.

Tino takes Berwald's coffee away and sets it on the side table. He holds his hand. "They're looking into treatment options for me."

The Swedish man looks up, his blue eyes wide with panic.

"Treatment for someone such as myself normally lasts 190 days." Tino scrutinizes Berwald's face. He clearly wasn't interested in speaking, so Tino continues. "Since you did so well helping me, I only need 60 days of in-hospital treatment."

"Seriously?" Berwald breathes. He pulls his chair closer to Tino's bed, clasping his wife's hand in his own. "What's the treatment?"

"Learning about nutrition and how to menu plan. So now you won't have to do all the grocery lists on your own now!" Tino laughs, and for a moment he doesn't look sick at all. "I'd also have to follow a specific diet, and have regular meetings with a psychiatrist."

"What for?"

Tino shrugs. "Don't know. I haven't seen him yet."

Berwald takes a moment to think about what Tino had said. In-hospital treatment… that meant his wife would be living in the hospital for two months. And psychiatric help? Since when was Tino mentally unstable?

Berwald never finds out why. He is escorted out of Tino's bedroom when the psychiatrist arrives. In some ways he is glad for it; he needs some time to be alone. When he gets to the waiting room, Lukas is the only one sitting there. His mouth is pressed into a firm line, and he looks even more bored than usual. As the Swede approaches him, Lukas speaks in a clipped tone.

"Mathias is in room 1008. Getting a saline solution."

Berwald only gives him a confused stare before Lukas huffs and stands up sharply.

"Mr. _I-Don't-Get-Hangovers_ is getting treated for one. Unbelievable."

"I'll take him to my place," Berwald offers. "You don't have to wait for him."

"Good," Lukas sniffs, and begins to make his way to the elevator. He pauses though, and turns to Berwald, eyes sympathetic.

"You'll be alright, and so will Tino. You're both strong."

For the moment, Berwald can only trust that he will make it through Tino's treatment. If he can't do it, neither can Tino. He puts on a brave face as he goes to room 1008 to retrieve Mathias.

"Dude!" he calls from the hospital bed, holding up his arm. "Come check this out; anti-hangover juice!" Mathias turns to the doctor administering the IV. "Hey doc… how much would me to buy a couple of these bags from you?"

They were immediately escorted out of the hospital.

**A/N: This took a few days to post. Sorry! More chapters to come!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit late, compared to the others. School started again, so yeah. One more chapter after this one! I'll post it later tonight. Thank you for reading!**

There isn't much to say about the two months Tino spent in the hospital. He was in a program with a several other people, some girls, and some boys. Some were as young as twelve, and there were some who were well into their forties. He formed great relationships with all of them, and vowed to keep in touch when he was released. Many of the other patients even looked up to Tino; saw him as a role model. He kept a smile on his face from sunrise to sunset, and always offered a listening ear or a helping hand to everyone in the hospital. Tino was quite nervous at first, but he later flourished in the treatment environment. He took quite easily to the program, thanks to Berwald's help. He had a strict schedule that followed everything he did and everything he ate. The food was surprisingly good for being made in a hospital. The treatment was hard, and there were days that Tino was would lay awake half the night, wishing there was a window so he could look up at the stars. He settled for looking up at the ceiling, wondering what Berwald was doing, and if he was thinking of him. There were days where Tino felt too tired to continue, teetering on the edge of relapsing back into sickness, because in some ways, it was easier. In these dark moods, Tino would text or call Berwald, no matter what time it was. His husband would always be there to answer, waiting on the line until Tino would fall asleep.

They were allowed four visiting hours once a week, and Berwald was always there early to ensure that he got as much time with Tino as he could. They mostly watched movies together, or read fairytales given to Tino from Mathias. The last few visits were spent waking around the parks near the hospital, as Tino was finally allowed to leave the building. He was looking healthier and more stable as time went on, and Berwald couldn't be happier. On the last visiting day before Tino's release, it was particularly brisk. Not wanting to break from tradition, the couple bundled up in sweaters and scarves, stepping out into the cool evening air.

"It's weird," Tino mused, looking up at the leaves dancing in the trees. "It feels like I just got here, but now I'm getting ready to leave."

"Not a bad thing," Berwald replied, taking hold of Tino's slender hand. "You look ready to leave."

"Yeah?" he turned his shimmering violet eyes to the Swedish man. He smiled, looking back down at his feet. "I guess I feel ready too. In some strange way, I feel _lighter_, but in another way, I'm more stable than I've been in months."

Berwald's thoughts ran over Tino's words. He couldn't possibly fathom how his beautiful little Finn was feeling, but he could see the weight of his words all over his face, and it showed in his confident and full figure. They continued walking in silence, circling around the park that was only a block from the hospital. When they reached the end of the forested area, Tino stopped, checking his phone.

"It's nearing the end of visiting hours," he mumbled. Berwald nodded in understanding. Tino took the Swede's hand more firmly, and began steering him back towards the hospital.

"Wait, Tino."

Tino waited. Berwald pulled his hand away and stuck it in his coat pocket, fumbling around before pulling out a paper bag, covered in white and lilac stripes, tied shut with a pearly ribbon. He handed it over wordlessly.

"What is it?" Tino queried, taking the bag, testing the weight of it.

"Open it."

Tino did, cautiously tugging at the ribbon that held the bag shut. When he pried back the paper, he nearly dropped it in shock.

"Berwald!" he cried, looking joyously up at his husband. "You bought me licorice! This is the _good _kind too!"

"Mhmm," Berwald nodded, a slight smile gracing his lips. Tino poked around the bag, looking at the assortment of black salted candies that were jumbled within. His smile faltered though, and he sighed apologetically.

"Ber, I can't eat these. The hospital won't let me."

Berwald stepped forward, reaching into the bag and pulling out a salted star. He held it up to Tino's lips.

"Doesn't matter now," he said gruffly. "You aren't in the hospital."

Tino smirked, and took the licorice in between his teeth, letting it fall against his tongue with a content smile.

"Oh man, did I miss these."

The Swede closed up the bag, pushing it closer to Tino's body.

"Hide these, okay?"

Tino closed the bag, tucking it into his jacket pocket. Without another word, the pair made their way back to the hospital, Tino sucking calmly on his licorice.

* * *

Berwald's two months of solitary passed remarkably quickly, despite only seeing Tino once a week. Mathias spent one or two nights a week at his house, bringing good Danish beer and candy every time. They'd get drunk together, like old times, remembering stories of when they were teenagers. They talked about how far they had come, and how much further they had to go. Being mostly alone for those 60 days really gave Berwald a chance to focus on woodworking, and catch up on everything he had missed since Tino's sickness began. He painted the house, redecorated the bathroom (with IKEA products, of course), and devoted 10hrs of overtime work a week. He kept busy, but his mind was almost always occupied on one thing: Tino.

Berwald had started a countdown to Tino's release the day his wife was admitted. Every night, he crossed off another day on the calendar before going to sleep. Weeks melted into days, and on the last day Berwald had alone to himself, he invited Lukas and Mathias over to decorate the house with cheesy "Congratulations!" banners, balloons, and confetti crackers. Mathias bought pastries from the nearby bakery, and Lukas took time to carefully make dozens of appetizer-sized open-faced sandwiches.

"Don't look so tense, Berwald," Mathias breathed; pulling away from the balloon he was inflating. "It's not like he's coming home with a newborn child or anything."

The Swede shrugged, looking around the brightly colored decorations. "Just nervous, I guess."

"What for? You've been living together for a few years now." Lukas places a tray of food in the fridge. "It'll be just like it used to be."

"It hasn't been normal for almost a year," Berwald rubs the back of his neck, easing away the pain from stress. "I don't know how _normal_ it'll be."

"Just trust him," Lukas says. He smirks as he swats the balloon out of Mathias' hands, watching it putter around the room loudly until it lands deflated on the floor.

* * *

Tino was actually looking forward to going back to work. His boss was a wonderful woman who kept his seniority for when he returned, and promised him plenty of shifts to keep him busy and make all the money he had been missing out on. His little hospital bed had been his home for the past two months, but now it was time to go home for real. It was a warm, breezy Saturday evening when Tino was sitting with his doctor, filling out the last of the paperwork for his release.

"You have someone coming to pick you up?"

"Yes," Tino says, neatly signing his name at the bottom of a crisp page. "Berwald should be in the waiting room now."

"You're a lucky man," the doctor smiles at him, taking the pages and putting them neatly in a folder. "I'm going to give you this," he says, holding out a small business card. "Some contact information for the psychiatrist, incase you need it."

Tino takes the card and slides it into his pocket. He doesn't plan on needing to call, but it wouldn't hurt to have it on hand.

"Well, this is it." The doctor stands and extends his hand. Tino shakes it. "Congratulations, Mr. Väinämöinen. You're free to go."

* * *

"Wow, Berwald!" Tino gasps as he enters the threshold of their house, setting his bags on the floor. "You did all this?" His eyes wander around the room, taking in the fresh new color on the walls, covered in lively decorations and balloons.

"With help from us, of course!" Mathias grins, taking Tino's bags. "I'll just put these in the bedroom, yes?"

"No!" Berwald says quickly, snatching them from the Dane's hands. "I mean… I've got it." He escapes down the hallway, a blush reddening his ears.

By the time he returns, Mathias is already opening beers, handing them around the table. He sees Tino laughing and joking, looking full of energy. Berwald lets go of his worries and stress, and gladly accepts a drink.

As the evening goes on, the Nordics become steadily drunker. Mathias, always a classy one, has the top buttons on his shirt undone, inwardly pleasing Lukas. The Norwegian is a bit red in the face, but sober enough to communicate and make smart decisions. Tino hasn't had alcohol in months, and it hits him hard. He is dozing on Berwald's shoulder, mumbling something about Danes and beer. Berwald is just on the edge of drunkenness, so he declines when Mathias pushes another beer on him.

"Take them home with you," Berwald offers, waving his hand at the Tuborg. "I'm done for tonight."

"Aww, c'mon! Just one more beer!"

"Mathias," it's Lukas that speaks this time. "It's getting a little late. Let's leave Tino to enjoy being home."

The Dane squints at his phone, trying to read the time. He can't, so he allows himself to be dragged to his feet by Lukas.

"Keep the beer, Ber," he slurs, putting his bottle down on the table. "And the smørrebrød."

"Sure. I'll call a cab, too." He eases Tino into an upright sitting position. The Finn blinks slowly before shakily standing. Berwald leans close to his ear; kissing lightly before whispering something only he can hear.

"Break it up, lovebirds!" Mathias calls from the kitchen. "We don't need to see that!"

Tino laughs breathily, stumbling alongside Berwald to make sure their guests get into their cab safely. They stood on the threshold of their home, waving as the cab pulled away. Suddenly it was very silent, and neither Tino nor Berwald wanted to move and potentially disrupt the calamity of the scene.

Tino was first to move, sighing heavily and turning back into the house. He let his eyes wander around the home, examining the new paint colors and the slight changes in furniture positioning. Berwald had a knack for home decorating. Tino wouldn't be surprised if he designed the pictures for the IKEA catalogue himself.

"How're ya feeling?" Berwald came up behind Tino, wrapping his arms around his waist. Tino leaned into the touch, closing his eyes, his head swimming dizzily.

"Good," he murmured, nuzzling close to Berwald. "I'm ready to just unwind though."

"Come," Berwald released Tino and held out his hand. Tino took it, and felt himself being led to the bedroom, the mess of empty beer bottles and dirtied dishes forgotten on the table.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: If you haven't read the previous chapter yet, please do! I made two updates in one day and I don't want anyone confused. This is it, the last chapter!**

The bedroom door was pushed open, and Tino felt his jaw drop in astonishment. The bedroom was redecorated beautifully; new bed sheets and matching curtains. A pale blue paint was applied carefully to the walls, shining dully as the candles on the bedsides table cast flickering light around the room. Three gift-wrapped boxed sat on the neatly made bed, adorned with huge sparkling ribbons. Tino felt a blush creeping up his face, a little mortified that he was drunk when there was such a beautiful display waiting in the bedroom for him.

"I don't know what to say," he said meekly, approaching the bed. "Thank you, so much."

"You earned it," Berwald smiled in reply, walking past Tino to sit on the bed. He patted the space beside him. "You have presents to unwrap."

Tino flushed darker, scurrying over to sit beside the Swede. He was handed the first gift, a medium sized box with quite a bit of weight to it.

"You really didn't have to," Tino said bashfully, taking the box.

"For this one," Berwald smiled gently, pointing at the box. "I really did."

Tino sighed, his mind too cloudy to make sense of Berwald's words. He took off the wrapping paper, and lifted the lid of the box. Inside the box was a large pile of carefully folded clothes, all from his favourite stores. He gasped, reaching inside and feeling the fabric. Cashmere, denim, pure cotton…

"Really?" he turned his watery eyes to Berwald. "I'm so touched… I can't believe you bought all this."

"Ya needed new clothes," he shrugged. "They should fit you."

"I'm sure they will." Tino smiled, setting the box on the floor. When he came back to the bed, Berwald had another gift waiting.

"This one," his husband said, pushing it into Tino's hands. It was smaller than the previous one. Tino unwrapped it silently, but let out a squeak of surprise when the wrapping paper fell away.

"_Kalevala_!" he cried, looking over the cover of the book. "This is..." he paused, looking for words. "This is so very _Finnish_! How did you know?"

Berwald shrugged, quite pleased with Tino's reaction. "Did some research."

"I can't wait to read through it," Tino gushed, putting it down next to his new clothes. "I will in the morning. I'm still a bit drunk," he admitted sheepishly. The final gift was placed in front of him, a giant box that covered both his and Berwald's laps. Tino shook his head lightly.

"This is all too much."

"It's okay," Berwald assured, inclining his head to the present. "Just open it, you'll see."

Tino took off the wrapping paper, and carefully pried open the box. When his eyes fell on the contents, he immediately felt his eyes well up with hot tears. They splashed down his cheeks before he could wipe his eyes. The salty drops pattered on the Tupperware that sat neatly piled in the box in front of him.

"You bought new Tupperware?" Tino asked, looking up to Berwald. It was incredulous, how something so simple would make him cry like a baby. Tino smiled wetly, almost laughing from how absurd it was.

"Nope," Berwald said, holding back a smile. "It's the same ones as before. I never threw them out."

"God, Berwald," Tino muttered, hiccoughing as the emotions surged within him. "I don't know why, but I'm really touched."

Berwald slid the box to the floor, bringing Tino close for a hug. The tears subsided, and they sat like this in silence for quite some time, watching the candlelight cast dancing shadows around the room. Berwald's breathing was quiet, even; but Tino's hitched every once in a while when he looked to the gifts on the floor, a silent reminder of how much he was loved and cared for. Finally, the Finn broke free from the hug, lying back on the bed with a huff.

"I'm sorry I'm drunk for all this." He mentally kicked himself for brining that up.

"Don't worry," Berwald replied, lying down beside his wife. "We both drank a bit."

It was quiet again for a few minutes, Tino's mind lulling as the alcohol blurred the edges of his vision, sending tingles down his arms and legs. He sighed, and broke the silence.

"I'm scared of going back to the way I was," he said quietly. "I know I need to be healthy again, but why can't I be healthy _and _thin?"

"Genetics," Berwald offered.

Tino pouted, shifting his weight on the bed to get more comfortable. "I wish I had genes like you."

"Why?"

Tino glanced over at him, beginning to blush. "Cause you're pretty sexy." He finally admitted.

Berwald laughed, a throaty chuckle that sounded like a car engine struggling to start. Tino huffed angrily, sitting up a little too fast. His head spun dangerously, and he shot a glare towards Berwald.

"It's not funny!"

"Sorry," the Swede said quickly, sitting up as well. "I don't think it's funny."

"Then why were you laughing?"

"Because I don't find myself attractive," Berwald replied simply. "I find _you_ attractive."

"Wh… What?" Tino struggled to find his words. "Why?"

Berwald leaned back on one arm, looking enviously relaxed as he fiddled with the new duvet. "It's a long list."

It was silent for a few moments, and then Tino lay back down, adjusting himself so his back was propped against the headboard, and his feet stuck out towards Berwald, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, Tino spoke up, looking quite bashful.

"Can I hear it? Or maybe some of it?"

"Why don't I show you?" Berwald said suddenly, meeting Tino's shy eyes with his lustful ones.

Tino felt his stomach lurch, electricity shooting from the bit of his abdomen into the tips of his fingers and toes. He unwillingly let out a choked moan, thinking of Berwald positioning himself on top of him…

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the Swede was crawling towards Tino, running his hands up and down his sides. Tino moaned again, closing his eyes and leaning into the soft bed. He was flushed from the alcohol, his face red and warm. His body burned underneath Berwald's touch that was more eager, more needy, than it has ever been before. The clothes were quickly stripped off and discarded on the floor in the heat of passion. The couple dipped under the bed sheets, gasps and moans and embarrassing groans filling the otherwise silent room. It was hot, Tino was sweaty and Berwald's face was deep crimson, lavishing in the touch that had been lacking for so long. The two bodies melted together as one, tangling beneath the white blankets that fell around Berwald's frame, hiding them from the harsh outside world. It was pure bliss, being locked in the tight embrace of romance and lust, the only light source coming from the small flames of the candles that mimicked the fiery passion that ached in the two bodies on the bed. But the perfect moment couldn't last forever, especially after it had been missing for months. In a guttural cry of ecstasy, Tino found his release, slipping deeper into the feeling as Berwald came with him, teasing and kissing and touching his beautiful wife. The Swede collapsed beside Tino, breathing heavily. The first candle on the bedside table burned down to a stub, before flickering out in a wisp of smoke. Tino fell asleep. Berwald wrapped himself around Tino, watching the last candle flame shrink, smaller and smaller until it too vanished. Bathing in the cool darkness, Berwald closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

Berwald woke the next morning and found Tino missing. He scrambled awake, reaching for his glasses. He jammed them on his face, peering around the room. He heard the shower running in the bathroom, and he lunged towards the door.

"Tino?" he called, turning the handle. The door swung open with ease, and Berwald relaxed. He could see Tino's cute little figure behind the steamy shower curtains, twisting and dancing lightly in the hot water. Berwald's mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard. Tino must've noticed an intruder through the sheer curtains, because he gasped and shut off the water, peeking through the edge of the curtain.

"Hi!" he chirped, wet hair clinging to his face. "You're just in time, I just finished." He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. It was the first time in a long while that Berwald had seen Tino fully naked in the bright light. His eyes raked greedily over Tino's body, watching droplets of water roll down each dip and curve. The Finn caught him watching.

"My eyes are up here," he said with a laugh, pointing to his beautiful violet eyes. He quickly dried himself, then shook the towel through his blonde locks. He hung up the towel, a little confused as to why Berwald was still standing in the doorway. His glasses were fogged up, but the Finnish man couldn't tell if it was from the shower or… Tino looked down. Ah, it definitely couldn't have been the steam.

"Like what you see?" he said teasingly, earning a quick cough from Berwald, who quickly turned away. Tino laughed, and turned his attention to the bathroom mirror.

Tino turned left and right, trying to assess each angle of his body.

"I'm still a bit smaller than I was before," he muttered, more to himself than Berwald. "But I think I like it."

"You do?" Berwald asked, turning back to Tino with an astonished look, the fog from his glasses dissipating.

"Yeah," Tino replied, giving one last sweeping glance in the mirror. He turned to Berwald, smiling brightly. "I'm not thin, but I'm not fat either."

"You were never fat," Berwald growled, stepping towards his wife and pulling him in closely.

"Plump?"

"No."

"How about curvy?"

"Maybe," Berwald allowed.

Tino laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that echoed in Berwald's head. "I like that word. _Curvy_," he said, testing the word on his tongue. "Yes, I think I'm nice and curvy."

The swede ran his hands down Tino's body, feeling the smooth contours of his hips.

"Mmm," he breathed, pressing his forehead to Tino's. "I like you curvy."

Tino looks up at Berwald, eyes heavy with lust. "Why's that?" his voice is deep, seductive.

The Swede suddenly grabs Tino, strong and fierce. He holds Tino's hips steady as he rolls his own against him. "Leverage," he offers. A strong buck of his hips follows. "Cushioning."

Normally Tino would be mortified at the dirty talk, but he melted at Berwald's words, pressing closer to his husband. He breathed in deeply, his stomach fluttering at the familiar scent.

"Come to bed with me," he purred, tracing his hands down Berwald's chest.

"I need a shower," he said dully, pushing damp hair away from Tino's face. "Go get dressed, and wait for me there."

"Sure, sure," Tino mused, turning to leave the bathroom.

"Oh, and Tino?"

He poked his head back into the bathroom. "Yes?"

"Wear one of the new outfits I got you. The one at the bottom of the box."

"Uh, okay." Tino turned and shut the door behind him, hearing the shower start up. He stepped towards his pile of presents, pushing aside some wrapping paper to reach his box of clothes. In the light, he could properly see the soft colors that all complimented each other, despite being jumbled together in a box. He passed the sweaters and cotton t-shirts, reaching to the bottom of the box. His fingers grazed against a new material; lace, velvet… and was that silk?

With shaky hands, Tino pulled out a piece of lingerie. It was black with soft purple accents sewed into it. He laughed in shock, turning it over in his hands, analyzing each ribbon and each twist of lace. He sat here for only a few moments before the water turned off, and the sound of Berwald's hurried footsteps tumbling out of the shower followed soon after.

Tino smirked, pulling on the lingerie quickly, hearing Berwald's words echo lustfully in his mind. _Curvy. _

"I'll show him curvy," Tino whispered to himself, a seductive grin gracing his soft face, pushing into the bathroom.

The End.

**A/N: So that's it! Thanks so much to those who read and reviewed, I had fun writing this! :)**


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